When Your World Shatters
by Mia-Teresa-Davenport
Summary: "They never fully leave. The memories. They're always there, tearing me apart." Bree/Chase. *Contains heavy depression.* (Her is Bree's POV, Him is Chase's POV.) Both is both Bree and Chase. *OCC AND AU*


**Him.**

They never fully leave. The memories. They're always there, tearing me apart. I still think about them too much. I think about what I did to you, and how it's my fault that you left, and now you're gone, and I hurt you so badly that I drove you off the edge, and now since you're gone, I'm left to pick up the pieces alone, the pieces that I broke. I deserve to be hurt. I just don't know what to do with myself anymore. The memories are too intense. Sometimes I don't get out of bed because of the guilt I feel, how empty I feel when I realize that you're gone for good, and you're never coming back, no matter how much I need you to. I just wake up and go back to bed. It's all my fault. The memories come back, each one worst than the last, and it's like a knife digging into me harder and deeper each time I think about the memories. I want to forget, but I don't want to. I try to forget, but I can't. It's harder to forget about when I think about you. I can't drink you off my mind anymore. It's hard. It's nearly impossible to let you go, to move on. No, it's impossible, because I think about what I did to you over and over and over again, how you broke to the point where you left this Hell you called Earth, where you're numb, and you pack your bags and leave, forever. I don't stop thinking about it, what I did to break you. I try to live my life, but I can't. You're always there, in my dreams, when I wake up, and you're the first thought in my head. You're consuming me. You're always on my mind, twenty four seven. You're gone now, and it's all my fault. I loved you, but at the same time, I broke you. It hurt you, and I'm so sorry for making you fall off the edge to the point where you killed yourself. Maybe you're up in Heaven. I hope you are. Actually, I know you're up in Heaven, because angels never go to Hell. The angels are always going to be in Heaven, watching us, the people who are down here, on Earth. I hope you are watching over me now. I hope you forgive me for what I've done to you. But trust me, I deserve this pain, no matter how many times people say I'm too young to understand a broken heart, and depression. They don't know how wrong they are. I've become numb, just like you did. I don't smile anymore. There's no point in doing it anymore. I don't do anything for fun. The only fun thing I do is go back to bed. I don't laugh, or smile, or do things for the fun of it anymore. I don't have a reason to anymore. I don't do anything anymore. I just live my life, not really enjoying it. People think they understand me, but they don't. Think they, they assume, they don't know. They don't understand me like you did. They think I'm the most carefree, happiest person alive, where my life is perfect, no flaws, nothing. And my life was, for a while, until you left. Some people even think that I loved you, and I did. I still do. I always will. They think they know the real me. If they saw the real me, they'd see that I'm a monster. I killed you, and I'm sorry. They would hurt me, too. And I have a feeling that they'd break me too, if they knew the real story. If they knew what I did to you. Everything about my perfect life is just the opposite, where I'm a monster in a place we call society. Society didn't kill you, they didn't even lay a finger on you. I did. I broke you, then I hurt you, then I killed you. And I hate myself for that. The guiltiness I feel every time I remember you. The memories come back in painful flashes. I did this to you. I'm a monster. I loved you, and you're gone now, all because of me. I try to live my life, but I'm not the same. Not without you. You don't understand, I'm not myself, not anymore. I'm not me. I'm not anyone without you. I'm living, but not really breathing. It's like I'm drowning, but everyone around me is breathing. I loved you. I don't love anyone else, except for you. I don't love like I used to anymore. I don't love anyone or anything the same way that I loved you. I loved you, and I broke you. I did this to you. I drove you off the edge. I loved you, and I want you to know that I'm sorry in person, but I can't do that anymore. I can only say that to your headstone now, which I visit every day, no matter what the weather is or something like that, with a single red rose, because that's your favorite color. We knew a lot about each other. We didn't know what love was before we developed feelings for each other. We were young, innocent. Now we don't have that anymore. We were always with each other, but I let you go, and now you're gone. I miss you. I'm so sorry I made you leave, when you had so much ahead of you, your whole life ahead of you. You should have not died at the age of seventeen years old. Nobody deserves to die at such a young age, through suicide or stupidity or an accident or anything like that. Nobody, no matter what age does. I love you. I'm going to be joining you, very soon. I'm going with you. I hope I see you, and I don't end up in Hell for what I've did to you. Maybe God will see the pain I'm in and send me up to Heaven, next to you. Then maybe, just maybe, we can fall in love all over again. Then maybe we can become more. As long as I'm next to you, and seeing you everyday, I'll be happy. As long as I end up in the right place. I loved you, and I broke you. I'm sorry. When I get next to you, I won't let you go, ever again. I won't forget you like I did before. Those are the things I think about. Those are the things I think about more than I should.

**Her.**

I was getting better, more like myself again. Happier. Braver. More like me. I was getting back to my old, regular self. I was almost me. But then I remembered what I was trying to get away from, I remembered the things that tore me apart. I remembered the things that tear me apart, and now I'm back at the start. I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of yelling. I'm tired of being sad. I'm tired of pretending. I'm tired of being alone. I'm tired of being angry. I'm tired of feeling crazy. I'm tired of feeling stuck. I'm tired of needing help. I'm tired of remembering. I'm tired of missing things. I'm tired of being different. I'm tired of missing people. I'm tired of feeling worthless. I'm tired of feeling empty inside. I'm tired of just not being able to let go. I'm tired of wishing that I could start all over. I'm tired of dreaming of a life that I will never have. I'm tired of being tired. But most of all I'm tired of living. I can't live with myself anymore. I don't want to be alone anymore. The only friend I have now is my dark thoughts, and their telling me to end my life. And sometimes, I do almost give in. I temper with the blade in my hand, weighing my options. I wonder, if my suicide was in the newspaper, would you care? No. You wouldn't. I was getting better, but then I remembered you.

I believed that you would never leave, but that was all a part of your game. You would treat me like I was everything, then you would leave. You would disappear, and treat me like I was nothing, and that killed me. I didn't understand how you could pick up everything and leave just like that, with no explanations, and no goodbyes. How do you look at someone, and just forget about all of the memories? How do you look at someone, and just forget how much they meant to you? How are you still able to look at that person the same way? I guess you never thought that I would fall. You always said, "I was the strongest person you knew." Yeah, I'm strong, but I break, and this was my breaking point. People have their own, and I have mine. Even you. You have your own, too. I know you do. I don't know if you'll ever break, because you left me alone. I wonder if you broke too when you left. You did care about me, and I was grateful for the fact. And now I just don't know anymore. It's then I realize now you just don't care. You forgot all about me. How do you expect me to keep going? You knew what I was going through. You knew how much I trusted you. You knew how much I loved you. You knew I would do anything or say anything for you, and you used that against me. And, for that, I hate you for it.

Nobody could feel that more than me. I was hurt the most. Nobody felt what I felt. It happened to me, and it happened to me in front of the world, and I didn't want that to happen. It was embarrassing, it was humiliating. It was hurtful. It's not easy being me. I can't look at myself anymore in the mirror, not anymore. All I see is a freak. I can barely get out of bed now. Some days, I don't even bother. Nothing is the same without you. Nothing is easy anymore.

**Him.**

And the truth is, he misses her. He misses her so much. He misses her all the time and it hurts physically, mentally and emotionally. Most days he gets up out of bed and immediately falls to his knees, because it feels like he can't breathe. He goes through the motions of the day, thinking of her. She's never off his mind. And, at the end of the day when he goes to sleep at night, she's his last thought, and when he wakes up, she's his first thought. Because, she may be gone, but the memories are still there.

**Her.**

That's when I realized that this was my chance, a once in a lifetime opportunity, a chance that I had to take. I could leave without hurting anyone. I could finally be out of this place I call life. I could finally let go of all of it. I could finally say goodbye, to my life, to you. I want to die, to be gone, to not feel the emotions I feel constantly. It was then I started to think. "This isn't your fault. I always wanted to leave. I just needed a reason to. I needed a way that wouldn't hurt you, but you're gone now. You don't care anymore, so thank you." I got my escape. I got everything that I wanted. I got to tell you goodbye. I got to tell you that it wasn't your fault. You didn't push me over the edge. The memories did. The broken moments did. The illusions did. The lies and the sorrow did. You just helped me to see that I wanted to be gone. You gave me what I wanted.

That was when the darkness consumed me. That was when I thought I love you one last time. That was when I finally started to fall in love all over again. That was when I was finally free.

**Both.**

It's weird, when you fall for someone that is important to you, who'd you'd do anything for, but they don't love you back. It hurts, mentally, physically and emotionally. It hurts in a way that you'd thought it'd never hurt. But it does hurt. Love is strange. Love is confusing, but it's also sad. It makes you do things you'd never thought you'd do in a million years. Love makes you happy, but if you get your heart broken, which does happen frequently, you can slip into depression, which is exactly what I did. It's strange, to love, then get your heart broken. It all happens so fast, too quickly for you to grasp at it. It's scary. And when you let go, you're finally free. That's what I did. I let go, and I'm finally free. But I don't want to forget. I'm never going to forget you.

**Him.**

Everyone thought she was fine. No one could see her falling into darkness. No one realized she was drowning in her own pain. No one ever realized how far gone she really was. He guessed no one ever realized that the girl they were talking to wasn't really her, just some illusion, a memory of what other people wanted to see, and he guessed that's what hurt her the most. The fact that no one ever noticed that she was gone.

Then, after she was truly gone, they realized that the girl that they were talking to wasn't really her, and they all said that she was a nice person, then they moved on with their lives, and forgot all about her after a while. But he won't forget, no matter how hard he tries to. She'll always be on his mind, and it's now he realizes that was what tore him apart. That he was with her, twenty four seven, all day, every day. And even he saw it too late, and he knows in the pit of his stomach that it's his fault, and he can't make amends. And that killed him. It's then he realizes something. That in life there is no happy ending. Just disaster. A few weeks later was when he left, when his heart stopped beating. He was right. There are no happy endings. At least now, they can be together.

**Her.**

Isn't it scary to be so ready to die at such a young age? Isn't it scary that I've done things that I never thought I would do in a million years? I thought I was always going to be happy, but that changed in a few short years. Isn't it scary that I never had dark thoughts in my head, until I met you?

Isn't it scary that one person can change you so much? No matter how much you hurt me; it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, because you made me who I want to be. I want to help people, and I want to get married and have kids. I want to live the life that I've dreamed of. I could do it. I could get where I wanted to be. The question is will I still be here by that time? Will I still be the same person I was before all this happened? After all, people can only take so much.

There's a difference between giving up, and knowing when you've had enough. I'm not giving up. I'm letting go of myself. I can't be here anymore. I can't face the days without feeling pain. It's hard enough to be here for even one more second. I don't want to be here anymore. It doesn't feel like it's worth it. People don't understand. People think depression is sadness. People think depression is crying. People think depression is dressing in black. People are wrong. Depression is the constant feeling of being numb. Being numb to emotions, being numb to lie. You wake up in the morning just to go back to bed again. Days aren't really days; they're just annoying obstacles that need to be faced. And how do you face them? Through medication, through drinking, through smoking, through drugs, through cutting. When you're depressed, you grasp onto anything that can get you through the day. That's what depression is, not sadness or tears or these strange mood swings, it's the overwhelming sense of numbness, and the desire for anything that can help you make it from one second to the next. Grasping onto something that takes the pain away is easy to do. But sometimes it isn't easy, and those days are the worst.

It's just not as easy to quit. I remember when you knew the real me. I remember when I wore my emotions on my sleeves. I remember when I wasn't hurt. I remember feeling like I could do anything. Nobody knows me anymore. Nobody knows the real me. Nobody knows how many times I've sat in my room and cried, how many times I've lost hope, how many times I've been let down. Nobody knows how many times I've had to hold back to tears, how many times I've felt like I'm about to snap, but don't just for the sake of others. Nobody knows the thoughts that have gone through my head whenever I'm 'sad.' Nobody knows how horrible they really are.

And then all of a sudden I changed. I came back a completely different person, with a new mindset, a new outlook, a new soul. The girl who once cared to much about everyone and everything no longer cared at all. That's what everyone thought. Truth is I cared too much. I cared too much that I forgot what's important in life. I forgot about the happiness I was supposed to have. People don't understand. They don't understand how horrible the things they say are. They don't understand that they're the reason I'm falling apart.

**Both.**

Because, if you love someone, and keep loving them, no matter what, even without being loved back, even to the point where you'd get hurt for them, crushed and battered and broken for them, then that love had to be real. It hurt too much to be anything else.

**Her.**

I couldn't tell what was real and what was a dream, and I couldn't tell if I was asleep or awake at times, being trapped in my mind. I swear I was going insane at times. I honestly think I am insane. I almost resorted to cutting, slicing up my skin with the blade of a knife, trying to feel something besides the worry, and the weariness. I've thought about killing myself, too. Just one deep cut, just one bullet, just a handful of the wrong pills, or too much of the right ones, and I can stop breathing. It's crossed my mind, many, many times. It hasn't left. The thoughts don't leave. And I don't think they ever will. Because there's always this feeling of being under appreciated, unloved, used and forgotten. We give and give everything we have to that one person until there is nothing left to give, and then we get hurt. Not that we expect a thing in return, or anything like that. It's just that it really hurts when we've been forgotten too many times after we have cared so much for them, no matter what happens, then when we are left out even when they are always on the top of our list. When it gets to the point where you'd take a bullet for them, or get your own heart broken, or when you lie about yourself, saying that 'I'm fine' to make sure that their happy, while you're left with your own dark thoughts. The fake smile washes off when you're alone, and when you are left with your dark thoughts, it scares you. It scares you so much that you don't know what's real and what's fantasy anymore, where you can't tell if you're awake or asleep, or somewhere in between, and it's bad. It gets even worse, the memories and the thoughts, as time goes on. It hurts, when we actually mean nothing to the one person we thought they cared about us, even when they're our priority. It hurts. It really does. Maybe there is something wrong with me, because I don't forget about people like everyone else does. I will never forget the people I care about most. They'll always be there, memorized in my brain. Everything I can possibly know about them. Other people shove the people that they cared about into the backs of their minds, and never to be thought of again. Or, you keep the people you care about most in the front of your brain, and their always on your mind, 24/7. It's kind of like a storage cabinet, where you throw away the unimportant files that you're done with or had in there for a long time, that are taking up too much space, and you get rid of them to make room for more, and you keep the ones you need, the people you care about the most are in the front, but when you throw the other files out, you don't think about it. You just do. It's human nature to forget and move on. But I won't forget the people I care about most. Not now, not ever. I'll always remember them. Because, when I truly do care about someone, I'm going to care about them for a long time. And when they don't care about me anymore, I care even more about that person, even when they've forgotten about me. It's stupid, but I do. I cared about you, and then I left you. You broke, just like I did. And now you're gone, but you're beside me. We both had a full life ahead of us, but we both broke, in different ways, but in the same ways. We both were hurting emotionally. You broke me first, and I left. Then I did the exact same thing to you, became the monster I didn't want to become, but I did. I broke you next, when I promised myself I would do the same thing. But then everything changed, and I did it. I shattered you into pieces. And for that, I'm sorry. At least now, we can be together, side by side, forever. At least now we can be together for eternity.


End file.
